


how fickle my heart;

by unintentionallyangsty



Series: drive the dark things away; [11]
Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies), Thor: Ragnarok (2017) - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Brodinsons, Broken Bones, Brother Feels, Brotherly Affection, Brotherly Angst, Brothers, Comfort, Comfort/Angst, Dysfunctional Family, Dysfunctional Relationships, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hugs, Hurt Loki (Marvel), Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Loki Lives (Marvel), Post-Thor: Ragnarok (2017), The Revengers - Freeform, The Statesman, Unhealthy Relationships, Whump, Whumptober, Whumptober 2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-13
Updated: 2020-10-13
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:27:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26985925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unintentionallyangsty/pseuds/unintentionallyangsty
Summary: Just as Thor and Loki are beginning to redevelop something of a tentative trust between the two of them during their time on theStatesman, the brothers (unsurprisingly) fall into an argument.After allowing himself to become irritated, Thor takes things a step too far, and is left to pick up the pieces.(Whumptober 2020 Prompt #12 Fill: Broken Bones / Broken Trust.).
Relationships: Brunnhilde | Valkyrie & Loki (Marvel), Loki & Thor, Loki & Thor (Marvel)
Series: drive the dark things away; [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1949623
Comments: 17
Kudos: 195
Collections: Whumptober 2020





	how fickle my heart;

**Author's Note:**

> Loki & Thor. set during the time spent on the _Statesman_
> 
> written for the Whumptober 2020 Prompt #12 Fill: Broken Bones / Broken Trust. 

Loki was laughing. 

Not a huff of a breath, like he had been known to do in the past, nor the quick quirk of a smile Thor had grown accustomed to seeing at the corner of Loki’s mouth, when he thought something even mildly humorous. 

No, Loki was _laughing_ , outright and uninhibited as he had done almost years before Thor could bring himself to remember. 

It had, admittedly, been a long road, leading up to this point. 

During the first few days on the _Statesman_ , Loki had hardly looked at him, and had taken at least another two weeks before attempting to offer Thor a small smile or, on the rare occasion, an actual, humored exhalation of breath. 

Therefore, Thor thought it within his right to assume that he might never hear Loki’s quick witted, tight laughter anytime soon, if ever again. 

And, therefore, it came as quite a shock when, not two months into their journey, Loki let out a long and enthusiastic whoop of laughter. 

Granted, the reaction had only been triggered by Thor’s spilling a bowl of soup into his own lap, and he would have gladly scowled and sulked over the development, were it not for Loki’s reaction in itself. 

Almost as soon as the bowl of soup had fallen, Thor had tensed and had begun to work himself up into a sulk, his nerves already strung high after a day full to the brim with council meetings and planning committees. 

He was quickly stopped, however, by the amused glimmer in Loki’s eyes, from where he was sat across from his brother, which had quickly evolved into a faint chuckling--

And, before Thor could fully realize what was happening, Loki was hunching forward where he was sat across from Thor, his hand pressed over his mouth as he began to heave with laughter. 

Under any other circumstances, Thor considered, he might have bristled, and raised an argument to the mirth being spared at his expense. 

As it was, however, he simply blinked, slightly taken aback at the first show of genuine happiness he had seen on Loki’s face since--

Well, since before the Bifrost, at the very least. 

Loki’s eyes had begun to crinkle up at the corners, and his cheeks had flushed a brilliant pink as he cackled, dimples Thor had long forgotten even existed deepening at his cheeks as he continued to wheeze.

It was, Thor felt, a turning point. 

While the weeks before had not been spent with an entirely hostile air between himself and Loki, there had been a sort of disconnect--at the very least, a discomfort. 

Following the battle on the Bifrost, it had seemed that there was very little for the two of them to discuss, and Thor had found himself hard pressed to connect with his brother on any level, beyond their recent, shared experiences. 

Which, as it turned out, had seemed to be very few either wished to discuss, over the past ten or so years. 

Therefore, Thor had found himself near-elated at Loki’s sudden, boisterous laughter, and could not have stopped his heart fluttering within his chest at the sound even if he had tried. 

It felt like a sign of trust; Loki allowing Thor (and, almost more importantly, others around them) to see such a genuine, unguarded side of him that he hadn’t revealed in a number of years… 

It was, undeniably, a significant progression in the tentative steps the two had taken toward repairing their relationship. 

Which was, of course, right about when things went wrong. 

\---

In truth, Thor could not have remembered what exactly had started the argument, even if he had been asked outright. 

The first thing he could remember was Loki taking another step closer to him in their chambers, not a day after their laughing together in the dining hall, his cheeks flushed and a blazing fury flickering behind his eyes as he jutted his chin defiantly out in Thor’s direction. 

“You’re being an idiot.” Loki had snapped, his chest having as he had scowled darkly at Thor. “Your people--” 

“ _Our_ people.” Thor corrected, sick of reigniting the same argument they’d been having for what felt like a century, now. “Loki--”

“They’re _not_ my people!” Loki’s cry, as adamant as it was in its bitterness, nearly caused Thor to reel back in shock. 

As it was, he simply blinked, and felt the very breath within his lungs chill slightly as Loki continued to level him with a cool, detached glare.

“They’re--” Loki broke off, then, his eyes fluttering closed as he seemed to take a moment to visibly compose himself.

“Thor,” he began, at length, when Thor could not find it within himself to reply beyond a small, exhausted stutter of an exhale. “Surely you cannot continue to believe…”

He trailed off, then, though the wry look he shot Thor was enough to finish the thought in itself.

And, unsurprisingly enough, Thor felt something like hot irritation beginning to well within his chest at the words. 

“I can.” he replied, immediately, and took a step forward in order to reach out with one hand and close it over Loki’s wrist. “Why do you insist upon being so damn obstinate?” 

There was a beat, and something like a shadow fell over Loki’s eyes, before he began to tug ineffectually at Thor’s iron grip. 

“Why must you continue to press an issue that’s long been laid to rest?” he snapped, before his features twisted into something almost like fear as he continues to struggle against Thor’s hold. “ _Thor--_ ” 

“ _Enough!”_ Thor snapped, and took another step closer to where Loki was eyeing him with a wide, slightly apprehensive gaze now, his grip tightening even as he failed to entirely register the movement. 

“Loki…” he growled, lowly, the heat building within his stomach reaching almost a boiling point, now. 

“ _Thor_ ,” Loki mocked, in reply, his mouth turning down into what could only be described as a sneer. “Stop--Ah!” he grimaced briefly, before his expression smoothed into one of steely determination, and he squared his shoulders before he leaned forward, closely enough that his nose was nearly brushing Thor’s. 

“Grow up.” he hissed, his breath ghosting hotly along Thor’s face as he scowled. 

Immediately, Thor felt something within him snap at the words, and he felt himself beginning to glower as he took another step closer to where Loki was stood, his hand tightening further--

Abruptly, the sound of a _snap_ rang out within their chambers, and Thor had only a moment to register the fact that the sound had come from the shift he could feel beneath his right hand, before Loki’s features shuttered quickly into a smooth, unreadable mask of indifference. 

There was a beat, before the blood began to drain from Loki’s face, and Thor distantly registered the fact that the bone and tendons within Loki’s wrist had begun to churn unnaturally beneath his grip. 

His breath stilling somewhat within his lungs, now, Thor released his grip and stumbled back a step, something like horror dawning at the back of his mind as he watched Loki waver dangerously in place. 

“L--Loki--” he managed to croak, then, the words tight and a little dry. “I--” 

“I think it would be best,” Loki interrupted, coolly, his tone held carefully smooth and emotionless. “If you left, now.” 

As he spoke, Loki drew his previously extended arm back to carefully cradle it against his chest, and Thor felt his stomach lurch sickeningly at the way the limb twisted unnaturally as it was moved. 

“Loki--” He began, again, attempting to offer something, _anything--_

“Now.” Loki repeated, his tone sharpening into something a bit more inarguable, before he paused, again, both eyes fluttering shut as he inhaled sharply. “Just--Now. Would be best.” 

Something within Thor twisted violently at the words, and he shifted so that he could plant his feet firmly against the ground below as he steeled his expression into one of unflappable determination. 

“Loki,” he began, slowly, and swallowed past another surge of guilt when Loki flinched slightly backward at the word. “Please--” 

“ _Now!_ ” Loki cried, and Thor had only a split second to watch as Loki’s features twisted into a grimace--

Before he disappeared in a glimmer of green light, leaving Thor to gape slightly at the now empty air, his stomach turning again as the conversation belatedly caught up with him. 

“Loki!” he cried again, before falling forward to rest his elbows on his knees, his breaths beginning to leave him in shallow and wet pants, now, as the guilt churning within his stomach threatened to choke him. 

“L-Loki…” 

\---

“What’s up with you?” 

Loki started at the sudden voice, and barely managed to smooth his expression into one of cool indifference before the Valkyrie fell into the seat beside him at the table in the far corner of the dining hall, her brow raised as her gaze fell immediately to his wrist. 

Or, more accurately, the bandages wrapped tightly around the brace at his wrist. 

Loki scowled slightly at the sudden intrusion, and fought the urge to draw back with a hiss and hide the injury entirely from view. 

“An accident.” he replied, after a beat, and made a show of returning his attention to the plate of vegetables on the table before him, his opposite hand already beginning to pick at the meal with his fork. 

“Really?” the Valkyrie snorted, and raised one, disbelieving brow. “Some accident.” 

“What would you know of it?” Loki snapped, before he could stop himself, and only felt himself falter when the Valkyrie shot an unimpressed look in his direction. 

“I--It was a simple mistake.” he offered, the excuse a little weak even to his own ears, before he allowed his gaze to drop back to his wrist. “Nothing to concern yourself with.”

Immediately, he found that he had to hastily push aside the nausea rising within his gut as his eyes fell back to the bandage wrapped tightly around the joint there, and he barely managed to bite back a scowl at his own weakness. 

It was a simple fracture, he reminded himself, already healing not a day after it had been inflicted. 

Hardly a cause for concern, much less the panic he could feel clawing its way up the back of his throat, every time his gaze so much as skimmed over the limb. 

“Sure.” the Valkyrie was saying, though her expression had settled into something almost unreadable, her gaze flickering uncertainly between Loki’s face and his bandaged wrist, for another moment, before she seemed to come to some unspoken conclusion, and squared her shoulders determinedly. 

“You know, Lackey.” she began, sounding almost awkward, for a moment. “There are people who--If anyone here is--is causing you trouble, there are people here who’d gladly put them in their place.” 

She huffed a brief, almost humorless laugh, then, and added, “Your brother, specifically.” 

And, in spite of everything--

In spite of the good; the conversations and the newly shared laughter and the subtle, comforting looks, over the past few weeks… 

In spite of this, Loki still felt something within himself curdle at the words, well intended as they were. 

“What?” the Valkyrie demanded, when Loki’s lips stretched into a hollow, mockery of a grin, before he could stop himself. 

“If you have not, already--” Loki replied, immediately, and valiantly attempted to ignore the burst of nausea flooding like bile into his mouth as he continued to speak. “I would recommend that you stop attempting to speak for those other than yourself, particularly in situations you fail to understand.” 

The words did nothing to ease the sickness within his gut, and Loki found no pleasure in the way the Valkyrie’s uncharacteristically soft expression shuttered almost immediately as they were imparted. 

“You know what?” she snapped, and rose at once, the soft flush on her cheeks the only outward indication of her frustration. “Fuck you, Lackey.” 

Before Loki could even begin to think of how to respond (not that he particularly wanted to), the Valkyrie was striding away, leaving Loki to heave another, slow breath as he willed his pulse to slow into something more reasonable. 

As soon as the distraction was gone, however, Loki found that he could not ignore the tightness taking up residence at the back of his throat, again, nor the way his mind immediately drifted back to the conversation with Thor that had taken place that morning. 

_Enough!_

Loki swallowed convulsively, and felt a sickly sweat beginning to break out at the back of his neck at the memory, despite his efforts to quell the reaction. 

He flexed his hand, again, and nearly winced at the brief bolt of pain that shot up his right forearm as he did so. 

It was hardly a break, he reminded himself with a small scowl. Not even a remote reason for concern, and yet--

And yet Loki could not have stopped the lurch of his stomach if he had tried. 

He had thought (had truly, foolishly, allowed himself to believe) that they were getting better. 

And, while two months was not necessarily enough time to heal the wounds between himself and Thor, Loki had allowed himself to settle into the warm comfort that had begun to grow between the two of them, the way eased by Thor’s easy smiles and quiet encouragement. 

_Stupid_. Loki reminded himself as another wave of nausea threatened to bowl him over, entirely.

_Impressionable **idiot**. _

It had been years, alongside almost as many experiences accompanied by near painful reminders as to his own weakness, and yet--

And yet, it seemed that Loki was still foolish enough to fall prey to his own, pitiful sentiment. 

No matter how painful the reminders, he considered, bitterly, as he observed the bandage around his wrist. 

_Idiot._

\---

Thor had fallen back against the far wall of the hallway well before he had registered the urge to do so, and immediately lurched forward to hang his head between his knees as he fairly gasped for breath. 

_Thor!_ The voice at the back of his mind cried, for what felt like the millionth time since that morning. _Stop--_

And he hadn’t listened. 

Of _course_ , he hadn’t listened. 

When, in truth, had he really made the effort to listen, in the past ten or so years? 

_You haven’t_ , he reminded himself, swallowing past the sickness that threatened to claw up at the back of his throat as he continued to heave for breath past the guilt that rose with it. 

He _hadn’t--_

Though that did not mean that he was entirely past the point of making amends, now. 

The thought firmly in mind, Thor forced himself to straighten, and took the first of many, clumsy steps further down the hallway and toward their chambers. 

He could hardly remember what the argument that morning had been about, he considered somewhat bitterly, though whatever the context was seemed pitifully weak, compared to the disgust he felt at his own reaction. 

Again, the sensation of Loki’s bones crunching beneath his grip rose to the forefront of his mind, unbidden, and Thor had to fight the urge to fall forward, then and there, and be sick all over the hallway. 

Somehow, Thor made it back to the doorway of the chambers he shared with Loki and their companions, and only then allowed himself to stumble to a halt and inhale a brief, tremulous breath. 

He did not deserve the opportunity to compose himself, Thor reflected morosely, and yet he allowed himself the brief respite as he fought to catch his wayward breath. 

Unsurprisingly, he had not seen Loki since his brother’s hasty teleportation out of the room that morning, and had not found it within himself to go searching. 

Instead, he had fallen into the easy routine of tackling his duties for the day, and had subsequently allowed his attention to be swept up into the various issues throughout the ship that demanded his attention. 

(Not, he reflected somewhat bitterly, that the efforts had done much to distract his tangled mind). 

In spite of his efforts, Thor had found his attention drifting back to his and Loki’s conversation that morning almost consistently, throughout the day, and had only held out long enough to complete the most pertinent of the tasks on his to-do list, before he had broken and begun to search the ship for his wayward brother. 

As it turned out, Thor had not had to search for very long. 

For, not an hour after dinner had concluded, the Valkyrie had strode past him and, when Thor had stopped her to inquire after Loki’s whereabouts, her features had tightened slightly before she had informed him that she had seen the prince disappear into their shared chambers, not long before. 

And so that was where Thor found himself, his breaths continuing to stick uncomfortably between his ribs as he attempted to work himself up to entering the room. 

Not that it was working particularly well, admittedly. 

Thor inhaled a sharp, steeling breath, then, and raised a hand to hover uncertainly between knocking and keying in the entry code at the control panel to the right of the door--

Only for a voice from inside the room to draw him to a halt. 

“You may as well come in.” Loki’s voice carried distantly past the heavy metal of the door. 

And, not a moment later, the door itself slid open, revealing where Loki was sat, curled into the armchair at the opposite end of the room with his knees drawn to his chest, his gaze pointedly avoiding Thor’s own. 

Thor allowed himself to hesitate another brief moment in the doorway, then, before he all but stumbled into the room, his blood chilling slightly when Loki tensed almost imperceptibly at the movement. 

“Loki,” he breathed, the word almost drowned out by the sound of the door sliding shut behind him. “I--” 

“I’d rather not hear it.” Loki interrupted, coolly, and turned the page of the book in his lap with exaggerated indifference. “We’re a bit past that, don’t you think?” 

Thor faltered, and felt something like irritation flare within his chest before he could stop it. 

“No.” he replied, lowly, and did not miss the way Loki tensed further at the word. 

“No, Loki.” he continued, and took a small step further into the room, when Loki did not reply, his hands tightening into fists at his sides. “No--”

“So you’ve said.” Loki interrupted, a bit of bite to his tone, now, though his gaze remained pointedly trained on the book in his lap. 

“And I will say again.” Thor replied, without missing a beat. “I--I did not come here to fight.” 

“And yet you refuse to leave me to my peace.” Loki snapped. 

“Only because I refuse to leave our--our previous conversation unfinished.” Thor countered, though he felt his stomach drop, slightly, when Loki’s features shuttered slightly at the words. 

“Is that all?” Loki inquired, after a beat, and closed the book in his hands with a _snap_ as he finally glanced up to meet Thor’s eyes. 

“If you’re seeking forgiveness, consider it given.” he drawled, before standing in one smooth motion and, after a beat, strode forward in what was clearly a hasty attempt to exit the room. 

“ _No_ ,” Thor cut in, and took a step to the right to effectively block Loki’s exit, ignoring his brother’s irritated expression in favor of continuing, “That’s not _‘all’_.” 

He paused, and allowed himself to close his eye, briefly, and inhaled a sharp breath through his nose before he offered Loki a small frown. 

“I wish to rectify my mistake.” he continued, finally. “To make amends.” 

“Rectify?” Loki repeated, his expression almost frighteningly blank, before he huffed a humorless laugh. 

“Consider it done.” he grit out, then, his expression twisting into an ugly sneer as he leaned into Thor’s space. “There is nothing to rectify.” 

“Is there not?” Thor cried and, before he could stop himself, shot out a hand to grip at Loki’s right arm, where he could just make out the edge of a stark white bandage still peeking out beneath the tightly bound leather of his brother’s sleeve

And, as he looked closer, he felt his stomach churn unpleasantly at the dark bruises he could just see mottling the skin, there. 

“What is this, then?” Thor demanded, and shook the limb curled between his thumb and forefinger roughly enough to encourage Loki to meet his gaze again. 

He took little pleasure, however, in the stark apprehension he could see just behind Loki’s gaze. 

“A mistake.” Loki muttered, after having seemingly taken a moment to recover himself, and offered a dark scowl. “You know as well as I--”

“It is not healed.” Thor interrupted, firmly, his stomach turning again at the memory of the bones of Loki’s wrist grinding beneath his grip. “You’ve not been to see a healer.” 

“Of course not.” Loki snapped at once, and pulled back violently to draw his bandaged limb back to himself. “What was I supposed to say?” 

Thor felt something within himself tighten painfully at the question. 

“Loki…”

“‘I’m so sorry, Madam’.” Loki continued, his gaze drifting past Thor’s shoulder to settle with an almost disconcerting blankness on the wall behind, and his lip pulled back into a sneer that revealed the very top of his gums. “The King of Asgard and I got into a bit of a quarrel.” 

Thor did not bother to hide his wince. “Loki--” 

“It’s fine.” Loki continued, as if he had not heard Thor speak, at all. “He simply managed to break the bones of my wrist and hand--” 

“Loki!” Thor swallowed convulsively past the urge to be violently ill, right then and there. 

“Not that I haven’t imparted worse upon him.” Loki hastened on, his tone almost robotically neutral, now. “In fact, not five years ago--” 

“ _Loki_.” Thor surged forward, then, and could no longer hold himself back from raising both hands to grip tightly at Loki’s shoulders, only then realizing how badly his brother was trembling. “Stop.” 

“Stabbed him.” Loki hissed, and made an aborted movement, as if he wanted to draw back out of the hold, and yet could not quite find it within himself to do so. “Betrayed him--K-killed--” 

“ _Stop_.” Thor commanded, and felt no pleasure when Loki flinched violently backward. 

“No,” Loki whispered, and began to shake his head with an almost worrying fervor, his gaze still distant and refusing to meet Thor’s. “N-no. I deserve it--” 

“You _don’t_!” Thor all but roared. 

And, before he could stop himself, he rocked forward on his heels to wrap both his arms tightly around Loki’s now fiercely trembling frame, one hand rising automatically to tangle into the hair at the back of his brother’s head. 

Loki tensed almost immediately, his breaths leaving him in sharp, shallow gasps as his head continued to jerk convulsively beneath Thor’s touch. 

“No.” he whispered sharply. “I--I deserve--” 

“You don’t.” Thor insisted, and turned to press a fervent kiss to the side of Loki’s head, his hand drifting down to knead at the tense muscles of his brother’s neck as Loki continued to remain tense against him. “You don’t, Loki. I’m sorry.” 

He sucked in a sharp, tremulous breath, and turned to nuzzle at Loki’s hair. 

“I’m so sorry.” 

There was another long stretch of silence, before Thor felt Loki’s shoulders shudder beneath his hold, and a moment later he all but collapsed against Thor’s side with a sharp inhale of his own. 

“I’m sorry.” Thor repeated, automatically beginning to rock the two of them even as he tugged Loki closer with the hand not cupping his neck, his heart twisting slightly when Loki’s keened softly, once, before turning to bury his face into the space between Thor’s neck and shoulder. 

“Sorry.” Thor breathed, and pressed a long kiss first to Loki’s temple, before moving down to press another to the shell of his ear and, finally, to the sharp jut of his cheekbone. “So sorry.” 

“Thor.” Loki whispered, and released something almost like a whimper as he buried his head impossibly further into Thor’s shoulder. “ _Thor--_ ”

“Hush.” Thor murmured, and allowed his eye to slip closed as he rested the side of his head against Loki’s own, his hand continuing to rub long, gentle circles into the space between his brother’s sharp shoulder blades. “I know. I’m sorry.”

Loki shuddered violently, again, before he turned and, before Thor could react, pressed his lips gently, almost hesitantly, to the joint of Thor’s shoulder. 

“It’s alright.” 

**Author's Note:**

> I REALIZE THAT THIS IS KIND OF SIMILAR TO MY DAY #3 FILL BUT !!! people wanted to see more Thor hurting/bruising Loki, and i was all too happy to comply (because i apparently enjoy detailing the still-unhealthy aspects to this relationship far too much) 
> 
> hmu at my tumblr [here!](http://littlekinng.tumblr.com) xx love u all


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